


Every Detail

by orphan_account



Category: Borderlands, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Drunk Sex, Hangover, I wrote this a long time ago, Implied Sexual Content, Kinda, M/M, don't worry jack treats him nicely, surprise twist at the end, waking up in a strager's bed, what did Rhys do last night?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 17:46:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7767280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhys wakes up in a strange room with a hangover and no memory of the previous night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every Detail

**Author's Note:**

> This was the beginning of a longer fic I didn't write.

Rhys hisses as his eyes are suddenly met by streams of light flowing through a crack in the drapery. He's fuzzy to say the least and the brightness stings like a slap to the face. He clamps his eyes shut, as if to fight the sun for his right to sleep as long as he desires. Although the beam is small it still manages to penetrate his eyelids. After an unsuccessful attempt to lie comfortably on his stomach, Rhys reluctantly surrenders to the glowing orb in the sky. If only he  closed the curtains better- _Curtains?_ Rhys is nearly certain there were never curtains in his bedroom, unless Vaughn is pursuing another attempt at interior decoration. "Oh shit." Rhys sits up immediately. When he finally comes to, he realizes three important aspects of his predicament, for one, he is certainly not in his own home, he had definitely been more drunk than he thought last night, and he is wearing absolutely nothing. As he becomes more aware of the room, he wonders how he could have ever mistaken it for his own.  His apartment could never dream of being so lavish. This room alone has real hardwood floors, ornate rugs, carved furniture, _and the sheets._ _Oh god the sheets..._ so smooth and breathable on his bare skin. The thread count must be something he would only be envious of if he guessed. If he wasn't in his current situation, he might have just rolled over and wallowed in them a bit longer. There are more pressing matters at hand however. The only way to discover his location, and more importantly, leave, is to get moving. Wrapping the sheet around his waist, Rhys pushes himself up sluggishly, hoping to locate his clothes. Fortunately, he spots them soon enough. They sit neatly folded on the sink in the adjacent bathroom. He hobbles over to where they are placed, reprimanding himself for being drunk enough to fall asleep in the bed of a stranger, yet sober enough to treat his clothing with such care before doing so.

Every surface in the bathroom is covered in elaborate marble. Rhys finally sees himself in the mirror. Upon considering the house and how spent he looks, he doesn't want to even begin speculating about what exactly occurred last night. After managing to successfully put on his boxers, he faces the perilous balancing act of getting into his trousers. Following some major wobbling, he fails the daunting task and comes crashing to the floor with a loud thud.

"You awake in there, kitten?" a voice calls from another room. Rhys recognizes the voice he has only ever heard over an intercom prior to the previous Monday. Suddenly, all of the memories come rushing back, how a small Friday night out with a few people turned into a major party, how he finally gathered the courage to invite a man, _his boss_ , who he had only really known for a week, to come along with them. Now here he is, sitting on the floor of Handsome Jack's bathroom, ruing the day he ever got on the elevator with that man. Rhys hears footsteps approaching. He wishes the floor would have bashed his head in when he fell.

"You alright there?  Woah, you look totally hammered." The voice now comes from less than a meter away. Although it shouldn't have been his first concern, Rhys notices that the other man appears almost as disheveled as himself. That still doesn't save him the embarrassment. He opens his mouth but no words come out. "What's the matter, cupcake?" Rhys' vacant expression persists. "Hey, anybody in there? It's me, Jack.” He waves a hand in front of the Rhys’ face.

"Yeah, it is," Rhys observes.

"So what's the problem?"

"Uh-I-uh..."

"Man, you should see your face. You look like you have no fucking clue where you are!" Jack cackles. "And what's with the gibberish? Shit, don't tell me you don't remember anything."

"W-well, not everything," Rhys stutters, attempting to widen the gap between them.  "I- I'm really sorry, sir."

“Call me Jack, sweet cheeks.”

“Well I'm sorry… Jack.”

"Whatever for, princess?" Jack asks. Rhys begins to wonder if the CEO is messing with him. The answer seems obvious. He takes a few more steps back.

"Jeez, I'm not going to bite," Jack whines. A smirk teases on his lips. " _Again_." He gestures toward the mirror, eyes full of mischief. Rhys turns in the direction of the his pointed finger. What he sees makes him yelp, ushering low laughter from Jack. Rhys instinctively pulls his shirt over his head to cover the bite mark on his shoulder. The lump in his throat burns. He takes a deep breath before asking the inevitable question.

"Um, did we? Uh..." Rhys trails off like an embarrassed teenager.

"Your memory is worse than I thought!" Rhys' heart beat quickens when Jack wraps his arms around his waist. Hot breath licks his ear, all he can do is hope his blush isn't too noticeable. "Hmmm... I could get used to this," Jack purrs, admiring himself and the flustered man in the mirror. It looks almost like a picture really, resting his chin on Rhys's slightly lower shoulder. The comment only perplexes Rhys more.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I think I'll keep you, cupcake. That was the plan after all."

"You mean this isn't just some sort of horrible mishap of a one night stand?"

"I'm Handsome Jack, babe. I don't have regrets."

"But why?" Rhys asks, finally turning toward the other man.

"What? Pretty little catch like you? Ain't gonna treat you like some cheap whore. Ever since I saw you on that elevator I- let's just say you fascinate me, Rhysie."

"Well what if I don't want you to 'keep' me?" Rhys retorts, drunk yet again on this strange new power he apparently possesses over Handsome Jack, a man he thought he would never meet, much less have drunk sex with.

"You do," Jack wrecks his ego in two words. The CEO raises an eyebrow, drawing attention to the scar across his face. Rhys hasn't paid much attention to it before. When Jack notices where he is looking his eyes dart up to the large grey streak in Jack's hair. Rhys considers how good the guy looks for his age, if age were even the cause of the discoloration.

He just can’t wrap his head around it. All he can manage is, "god, I look like shit."

"Then take a shower, dummy."

"Can I?"

"I don't know. _Can_ you?" Jack ripostes. Rhys simply glares. "I'm kidding, go for it," Jack proclaims throwing a towel right into Rhys’ face.

"Thanks," Rhys spits. Jack doesn't move an inch.  "So..."

"What? _Oh come on_ , it's nothing I haven't seen!"

"Go!"

"Okay! I'm going, jeez!" Jack complains. "I guess I'll just have to wait til later to... _refresh your memory,_ " He gives an over the top wink and a grin. Rhys turns red as a beet.

"Get out."  


"Ugh, fine. You're no fun, princess, least not when you're hungover. Oh, and for the record, I’m not the one that asked you, so you can stop playing the victim."

Rhys' mouth hangs slightly agape. “I asked you if you would- you- _with me?_ ”

“You know, I don’t remember much about last night either, but I’m never going to forget what you said to me.”

Rhys buries his face in his hands. “I’m going to regret asking this. What did I say?”

Jack clears his throat. “And I quote, ‘I don’t think whatever’s under that mask is _the biggest thing_ you’re hiding from me, hot stuff.’ Then you snapped my waistband and walked off.”

Rhys wants to dig a hole and crawl inside it. “Fuck.”

“Yep that’s what happened next. Could happen more, but you need your stupid alone time in the shower.” He starts to close the door.

“Wait!” Rhys stops him.

“What?”

“You can’t go. I uh- you have to tell me what happened next.”

Jack leans in the door frame, a smirk creeps across his face. He saunters over to Rhys. “Oh believe me, cupcake.” He pulls him closer, dipping his hand down the front of Rhys’ shorts. “I’ll give you every detail.”

**Author's Note:**

> Rhys you sly dog.
> 
> As always, consider following jackassofbass.tumblr.com


End file.
